Saying Goodbye
by AtobeLover
Summary: The four times that Ryoma said goodbye to Atobe, but always found him again.


Title: Saying Goodbye

By: AtobeLover

Summary: The four times that Ryoma said goodbye to Atobe, but always found him again.

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I don't own this heaven that is Prince of Tennis.

A/N: The one song I listened to while writing this: The Silence - Mayday Parade. I did say I was their addict.

[This is for Ciel, I hope you love this. I hope this reassures you of me being completely pro-Royal heh heh. *waves*]

Not every time is all serious and heartbreaking, but I just hope you like this. Thank you.

* * *

1.

"See you again, loser brat," Atobe said, smirking at the boy in the Fila cap before turning and going to board the bus that would take him and his team back to Hyotei after the friendlies they played with Seigaku.

"No, you won't," Ryoma threw back at him, "because I don't want to see you again. And I thought you'd go back in that mile-long limo of yours."

"I like being a commoner now and then, peasant, and fine, if you really don't want to see me, then don't, because please don't expect me to, excuse my French, give a rat's ass about it. You're just sore you lost to me."

"Che, whatever. Get lost already." With those words, Ryoma strutted off to find Momoshiro to grab a couple burgers. He missed the almost sad smile Atobe gave him, before finally getting into the bus.

Ryoma should have been famous for being dense, too, because it was right up there beside tennis on _Things Echizen is Good At. _He really didn't visit Atobe, who he used to consider at least an acquaintance, again, didn't bring himself to go around to his mansion, because he was also a stubborn idiot. Losing the match shouldn't have held so much importance, but Ryoma rarely lost, you know?

It was only a week later that Ryoma realized that he might have lost someone along with that match, too.

-.-

As the school bell rang, Atobe got up, gathered his books and put them in a bag before handing it to Kabaji and walking out of his classroom in Hyotei, immediately heading over to the locker rooms to shower and get ready for practice. He hadn't become the captain of a two-hundred-strong tennis club by being unpunctual.

He picked up his pace as he exited the school building, catching the eye of the many girls who would faint on sight just seeing him (many did) and ran toward the lush tennis grounds. He slowed and finally came to a stop as he saw a boy lurking at the gate, wearing a blue and white Seigaku regulars' jacket and a white cap.

Echizen.

Keigo's heart suddenly started beating faster for a reason he didn't understand.

"I thought you wanted me to get lost, brat," Atobe said as he went toward the boy. "Why did you come to find me, then?"

"I don't know. Revenge. I'm going to make you lose. On your own court. Mada mada dane."

Atobe smiled. "Just admit you missed me already."

"Just change into your stupid purple uniform already." Ryoma said nothing else.

"Just stop being so bratty already." The two walked into the courts together.

"Just stop being such a bastard already."

"Just stop falsely accusing me of being a bastard already."

"Just stop."

"Already."

* * *

2.

"So, you're going back to the US? Forever?"

A sakura-tree park. Atobe loved the park. Ryoma knew Atobe loved it, so they went there off-season, just to sit under a tree and talk in person for the last time.

"Yeah," Ryoma said, tossing the racket in his hands into the air and deftly catching it again. As he tossed it once more, Atobe grabbed it mid-air and held it close to his chest, almost cradling it. Ryoma kind of colored, getting the sentiment behind that gesture. "I'm right here, you know. You don't really need that racket."

"As if you'd let me love you," Keigo said softly, glancing up at the bare branches of the tree which they were using as support for their backs. "When they flower in the US, will you go to see them?"

"Of course," Ryoma said. "It'd be my only connection to you."

"Oh, right, we don't have each other's email addresses and phone numbers and love letters," Atobe said, chuckling.

"What love letters? I didn't give you any love letters," Ryoma replied, discomfited. Atobe stole a glance at him. "Did you ever want to?"

Ryoma paused, reflecting on his feelings the past few years. "I didn't know how to write love letters."

"Take a leaf out of my book and just copy some of the stuff I wrote to you, you know."

"I can't imitate the pure calligraphy you call your handwriting, Monkey King, and anyway, I was too busy winning tournaments with Buchou and the others while you were busy being in love."

"If you remember, I think Hyotei reached the quarterfinals of the Nationals."

"I think Seigaku won the Nationals."

Atobe smirked. "Your sarcasm hasn't been dampened, I see."

"So you're not blind."

"No, I don't think I am."

"You actually are, you know, Monkey King," Ryoma said wonderingly. "I never knew you needed love letters to see what was right in front of you."

Keigo stilled.

A cool breeze blew through the park, blowing Ryoma's hair over his face. His cap was absent. Atobe reached over and ran a hand through Ryoma's hair, saying, "But you're still saying goodbye."

-.-

Three years later, Atobe was all but ready to succeed his father as the heir of Atobe Corp., preparing to complete his master's degree in business. He would prove himself worthy of being the successor to his father, and silence all the critics who accused him of nepotism.

He had accumulated many fans over those three years, though he had left tennis a long while ago. To escape from their endless calls and emails, he had a private cellphone whose number was with only a select few. It was somewhat of a surprise when Atobe got a message on that very phone from an unknown number:

_I love you too, blind man. Find me soon. Wimbledon's waiting._

He stared at the screen in shock for a few seconds, not believing the words in front of him.

Three years late. Echizen was three fucking years late.

But he found Atobe all the same.

When Echizen lifted the Wimbledon trophy, the first person he celebrated it with was Atobe Keigo, and that made all the headlines.

* * *

3.

The hospital had an aura of death ever since Keigo had set foot in it.

White was supposed to be a symbol of purity, peace, but all Atobe associated it with was turmoil and pain. He slowly took steps down the corridor and stopped in front of the last door. Knocking once, he opened it to see Nanjiro Echizen sitting on the visitor's couch, head in his hands, unmoving. Nanako was sitting by the patient's bed, Rinko was, too.

The patient was Echizen Ryoma.

Atobe asked, "How is he today?"

"Hello, Keigo-kun," Rinko said, smiling at him. Atobe saw through it. Forced smiles were all that he was giving out lately, too. "He woke up for a couple of hours today morning."

Atobe was elated to hear the news. "He did? That's great, isn't it? Isn't it?" He gave out a genuine smile to Nanako, who smiled back. Smiling was all they had.

"But, he went back into the coma, and the doctors are saying that's not so good," Rinko sighed.

"He... wrote this before he relapsed," Nanako said, giving Atobe a sheet of paper. "He said to specifically give it to you."

Atobe took the paper, running his eyes over the bad handwriting characteristic of Ryoma.

_Keigo_

_I know I don't have time. I just wanted to say goodbye to you if you lose me forever._

_Mada mada dane, remember me._

_Ryoma_

Nobody could blame Atobe if he crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into a wastepaper basket on his way out.

-.-

Atobe's phone rang one day, while he was working away on an important spreadsheet. "Hello?"

"Keigo."

Atobe realized it must be a dream. Ryoma was in a coma. How would he call Atobe? How could this be his voice?

"Who is this?"

"I thought I told you to remember me. It's only been a month since I wrote you that sap, Monkey King."

"Who is this?" Atobe repeated. Someone must be playing a really cruel joke on him.

The person on the other end hung up without saying anything. Atobe put the phone aside, and went back to his work. An hour later, his personal assistant knocked on the door of his office. "Atobe-sama? You have a visitor."

"Do they have an appointment scheduled with me?"

"He says you'll see him without one."

Atobe pinched the bridge of his nose. His day, already messed up, was worsened by the prank caller, and now he had to deal with an arrogant visitor.

"What is his name?"

"He didn't give one, but I believe he's Echizen Ryoma."

Atobe stood up, hardly believing his ears. "Send him in," he muttered. "Send him in." What now? A doppelgänger?

The assistant had never seen her boss like this, shocked, tense, weakened. She hurried out. "The boss will see you now," she said to the man sitting at the reception. She looked closely at the face. Could it really be? The tennis legend himself? The papers had said he'd woken up from his coma a few days ago.

The man said, "Thanks," and walked into Atobe's office. Atobe was standing, staring wide-eyed at the door.

"Che, Keigo. It really was me on the phone."

It was worth it, seeing Atobe's face at that moment, Ryoma thought. Like Atobe had seen his death and his God in the same face. He smirked. "Miss me?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Atobe breathed. Ryoma noticed tears had formed in his eyes. The emotional wreck Atobe had become because of him wrenched at his conscience. "I'm back now," Ryoma said, walking over to the desk behind which Atobe was standing. "I'm back."

Atobe pulled Ryoma over to him, over the desk, and kissed him. Ryoma didn't mind the uncomfortable way he was dragged onto the desk, on his knees, papers askew, Atobe's laptop to one side, because all he could focus on was Keigo. Atobe held on to him, breathing him in. "Ryoma, Ryoma," he whispered like it was a prayer. "Ryoma," he said one more time and let the tears fall. "I thought you were gone."

"You obviously are too busy to read the newspapers, Monkey King," Ryoma said gently, wiping the tears on Keigo's face away. "Or watch TV. Or use the Internet. Or call my family."

"I just didn't want to one day read your obituaries and watch tributes to you and find you were dead," Atobe said. Ryoma wrapped his arms around Atobe. "I'm back, though."

* * *

4.

Atobe really didn't want to attend the all-school tennis club reunion. Ryoma really wanted to.

"Why would you want to see the grown-up versions of all these people?" Atobe muttered, clicking away on his laptop.

"You know, you really shouldn't use your laptop in bed," Ryoma said from beside him. He yawned slightly, and added, "And I really want to, what's so wrong in wanting to see my senpai-tachi again?"

"You told me I don't use the Internet anymore. Neither do you, apparently, brat," Atobe smirked. "You can see them now."

"I'm twenty-three now, don't call me brat," Ryoma swatted at Atobe's arm. "And seeing people in person is better than seeing pictures."

"You could always visit them at their houses. You're free anyway. All you do all day is play tennis," Atobe snarked, "While hardworking people like me slog away even in bed at their laptops."

Ryoma shut the lid of the laptop and said, "Let's see how you're working now."

They went to the reunion in the end. Atobe was powerless to say anything as Ryoma handed him a dinner jacket and said, "Let's go." Something about Ryoma in formal clothes wore away at Atobe's willpower.

The reason Atobe didn't want to see anybody again was because he didn't want to have to explain his reasons for leaving tennis. He would never admit it to Ryoma, but foregoing his dream of being a pro tennis player had never been on his to-do list.

Seigaku had been chosen as the place for the gathering, and Ryoma just wanted to see his old campus and friends again. As he and Atobe registered themselves and walked into the gymnasium, they were faced with all of their old teammates. Atobe looked at Ryoma. Maybe seeing the rare, wide smile of his on his face was worth it, Atobe ceded.

"Ne, Keigo, I'll go to see all my senpai-tachi again, okay? Bye, see you in a couple of hours," Ryoma said, still smiling. Atobe's heartbeats quickened, but he let Ryoma go anyway. He knew there was a furious Oshitari somewhere waiting for him.

-.-

The next morning, Atobe was standing in the shower, quietly letting cold water rush over him. The reunion had ended well, but Ryoma had let Atobe know he'd be staying over at Momoshiro's. The guy was his old best friend, so of course Atobe had no problem, but going even one night without Ryoma was too much for him. He'd almost lost Ryoma so many times, what if something happened to him? Tears fell from Atobe's eyes, and Atobe knew he was getting too sensitive and emotional, but he was just in love.

He didn't hear the bathroom door open, but he felt Ryoma's arms wrap around him. "Why cold water?" he heard Ryoma mumble into Atobe's back. "I don't like cold water." Atobe said nothing. Ryoma's arms went higher, and one of his hands touched his face, and came away with hot tears. "Why the hell are you crying, Monkey King?"

"You just say goodbye too much," Atobe mumbled. Ryoma stilled, going over their past together.

"I won't, not anymore, Keigo," Ryoma said, admitting it. "I love you, you know that. That's why I always tried to make you put up a wall every time I thought I was actually leaving. I couldn't bear leaving just as much as you couldn't bear me leaving, you know."

"Never go," Atobe whispered. Ryoma didn't hear it over the sound of the shower, but his arms around Keigo tightened all the same.

"I say goodbye too much," Ryoma said, "but I always come back."

"And I thank you for it."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

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